+1 to Socialize (sometimes, Persuasion) those impressed by her celebrity status

+1 to Wits + Composure for public recognition

Professional Training: Artist

O

Networking: Gains Contacts (Blogosphere)

-

Advantages

Health

[] [] [] [] [] [] []

Willpower

[] [] []

Morality

6

Derangements

Inferiority Complex (6)

Size

5

Speed

9

Defense

3

Armor

-

Initiative

5

Background

Vanessa Elliot grew up as the lonely daughter of a single mother, doing her best to make do in Des Moines, Iowa, answering phones for insurance callers. Since she was 12, she'd developed significantly - curves to die for, thick black curls, an apple-round ass, and deep blue eyes that seemed to suck people in. She was proud of her looks - at first, until her mother's first serious boyfriend, Steve, took too close of a liking to her…she told her mother what had happened, and her mother slapped her, screamed, and blamed her for everything. Goodbye, Steve, and goodbye the trust between a mother and daughter. It happened again and again, to a lesser degree - wandering eyes turning a lonely mother to bitterness, and Vanessa doing her best to hide her looks. She became partial to baggy pants, hoodies, boy's clothes. But nothing seemed to help. So she became introverted, rarely left home, spent time working on old computers and older books, things that didn't look back at her. They only told her things that made her happy.

After high school, Vanessa left home with the door locked behind her by her mother. She'd always wanted to make music happen, so she ended up part of a small group heading to the West Coast to hit the punk scene…or so she thought. After narrowly avoiding a rape, she found herself broke and homeless…and desperate for cash. She stumbled into an audition - one of THOSE auditions, she learned. But by then, Vanessa was tired of it. Sick of it. Sick of everyone trying to give her everything she didn't want for things she didn't work to get. And so she took the bait, took it off, and had a whirlwind six months she can barely remember…she was lucky she didn't end up addicted to something, infected by something, or worse…but she left on the first bus out of Hollywood after that, disgusted with herself - a few bucks, her beat-up bass, and a laptop in desperate need of charging.

And a tattoo all around her left thigh, sensuous symbols she didn't recognize crawling up her knee upwards. The signature trademark of Vanessa Vail, one of the naughiest girls of 'the rock scene'…no album, but a small library of DVDs, none of them all that musical